Their Days Were Warmer
by AvengerGal
Summary: "Their first kiss was as intentional as it was spontaneous, as significant as it was inconsequential." Series of (probably mostly unrelated) one-shots for Sanami Week. Warning: Cheesier than extra cheesy.
1. Kiss

**AN: Hello, everyone! This is a series of one-shots for Sanami Week (2016). I don't think I'm going to be able to manage uploading every day, so I apologize in advance. But I will try to cover all the prompts.**

 **I'm not the best at writing romance. But I wrote this in hopes you would enjoy.**

 **WARNING: CHEESY. CHEEEEEZY.**

* * *

 _Sanami Week: Day 1, Prompt: Kiss  
_

Kiss

Their first kiss was as intentional as it was spontaneous, as significant as it was inconsequential. The sepia-tinted day was dazzling, almost dazing, the way the sun glinted off the sea; Nami felt oddly happy, carefree, and nostalgic.

And it was hot.

Wearing shorts with her rainbow-striped bikini top, Nami stood in front of her orange trees. In her hands she gripped a pair of hefty gardening shears and a large woven basket that prickled her fingers. Many of the oranges were ripe and waiting to be picked, and the trees didn't prune themselves. She hadn't done any work yet, but the heat of the day had already dampened her hairline with sweat.

Sanji walked up to her. "Orange-picking?"

She nodded.

He gestured at the clunky shears. "You're going to need two hands for those. I thought Robin had smaller ones."

"I didn't see them in the gardening tool box," said Nami. She rolled her eyes. "I'm guessing Usopp is using them in his workshop. Didn't I budget money for him to buy his own tools?"

"Well, then," Sanji said, taking the basket from her. "Let's do this together."

Nami blinked and opened her mouth to say something, but Sanji was already walking towards the first tree.

It occurred to her as she snipped away at the branches and he caught the falling fruits with the basket that they had known each other for a long time. His perverted mind aside, she did not dislike him.

He was kind and considerate to her. While he behaved this way toward every lady he set his eyes upon, he also respected who she was as a person as well. Her personal tastes. Her past. And being one of the more sensible people on the ship, he was someone with whom she could hold an intelligent conversation.

Today was just meaningless talk though, like the prickliness of the basket, how sweaty their clothes were getting, and that Zoro was probably sleeping on a day like this.

They laughed. Sanji wasn't a dark or sad character, yet Nami didn't hear him laugh very often. It was nice; his face gleamed and he would return her gaze with mirthful eyes.

She didn't mean to gaze. She tried not to, but she couldn't help it.

The basket was full. Sanji set it down.

"Hold on, I'll be back," he said, and walked inside the kitchen.

Nami sat down on the grass in the shade of the trees. Nobody else was outside, so for once, it was quiet on deck. She took an orange from the basket. Bellemere's oranges were so easy to peel, and the firm skin detached cleanly from the flesh of the fruit; she set the peel on the grass and popped the orange pieces into her mouth. Soon, two more peels joined the first one on the ground.

Sanji did not take too long, and he was back just as she had pierced the fourth one with her thumbnail. With a smile, she watched as he placed a tray with two glasses and a citrus hand-juicer down onto the grass

"Here," said Sanji, handing her a towel so she could wipe off her sweat. "Let me squeeze some juice for us."

Nami handed him the orange in her hand. "Eat it unsqueezed, first. " Today, the oranges were such a perfect balance of sweet and sour, and just perfectly, pleasantly firm.

And Sanji happily complied. As he peeled the orange, juice sprayed up in a fine mist that made him blink and rub his nose. Nami giggled. He grinned back at her.

Nami scooted closer to the basket, closer to Sanji, and picked out another orange. Licking her fingers, which now tasted like oranges, and she watched as juice dribbled down Sanji's hands.

His hands also must be sweet and sticky, she thought.

She licked her lips. They were sweet, sticky, and sour.

Sanji's gaze rested on her. Nami looked at his lips, and wondered if they tasted the same way.

She leaned in. Closer.

They must taste the same way.

Closer.

That was weird. Since when did Sanji make her heart flutter?

Their lips met softly, in the warmth of the green light of the sun that shone through the leaves. It was amazing how unwitting yet unhesitant the kiss was. And the way Sanji returned the kiss didn't reek of his perviness. It was unexpectedly simple, and all at once passionate and calm.

And sweet and sour. And sticky.

Nami's heart raced.

They pulled away as gently as they had met.

Maybe it wasn't just their first kiss but their only kiss. It felt that way, the way it was over too soon, and life moved on. The deck was abruptly occupied again as Luffy ran out of the kitchen with a bang and Usopp followed, carrying fishing rods. The oranges were squeezed. The juice was poured out into nine cups. Everyone talked, but the two said not a word.

She found herself looking away whenever he turned to her, unable to make eye contact. She noticed the way he fumbled with his cigarettes when she was nearby.

No, that kiss just couldn't be the end of everything that hadn't started. Nami's heart was bursting, and she could tell by looking at him that Sanji also was full to the brim.

Deep down, she had a feeling. A good feeling.

New flowers would spring up, and they would surely bloom.

* * *

 **AN: ...How obvious was my lack of romantic experience don't tell me.  
**

 **Anyway, enjoy Sanami Week!**


	2. Presence

**AN: It's the best feeling to fall asleep in a room where someone you care about is already sleeping...**

* * *

 _Sanami Week: Day 2, Prompt: Presence_

Presence

Most times, Sanji only visited the library in order to bring drinks or snacks to the ladies of the Sunny. And it was for this reason that he had entered the room tonight, balancing a tray of hot cocoa and sponge cake.

The tranquil silence of the library embraced him when he stepped inside.

Nami was asleep.

She had fallen asleep in her chair with her head resting on her arms on the map-drawing table. A new map was scrolled out in fresh ink, although Sanji couldn't tell if it was complete or not. Reference books and previously drawn maps were stacked around her sleeping figure.

She still had her glasses on. Sanji liked it when Nami wore glasses. Well, he liked it when Nami did anything. But to him, it was like having tangible evidence that this beauty was a genius. Just when he thought he couldn't fall more in love.

Quietly, he placed the tray down on the other table in the middle of the room, then tiptoed back over to Nami.

Bending over, Sanji gently removed her glasses, folded them, and placed them on a book. To his eyes, she shone like a goddess, and mesmerized, he gazed at her so long that she would have charged him an exorbitant sum if she were awake. He needed that time to regain the common sense required to assure himself that Nami was indeed an actual human being and not an angel.

He realized her arms were bare. He frowned. Yes, the library was somewhat warm, but it was snowing now on the ever fluctuating Grand Line.

Where were the blankets with which Nami and Robin had supplied the library? He rummaged around the drawers in the center table.

Aha. He unfolded a large, blue flannel blanket and covered Nami with it.

There.

But Sanji couldn't bring himself to leave the room.

He turned to the bookshelves.

Now, Sanji wasn't like Luffy or Zoro, neither of whom ever dreamed of touching a book, let alone for pleasure reading. (In fact, Sanji enjoyed assuming that the marimo bastard was illiterate, only able to recognize the kanji for sake.) But he also couldn't spend days immersed in books the way Robin did.

Unless it was a really interesting book. One that he really couldn't put down. Those were the moments when books piqued his interest and he found himself sitting in the library for substantial periods of time.

Otherwise, he found cooking and spending time with the ladies to be a more worthwhile use of his time.

He searched the shelves. Many of the books were informative non-fiction. While some titles caught his eye, he doubted he would read very far into them.

He finally slid a book out of the shelf. _Great Cooks of the Grand Line._

Reclining on the green-blue cushioned bench that ran along the circular wall, he opened the book.

Then rolled his eyes and chuckled a little. The book was placed neatly back onto the shelf. He'd forgotten that he had already read this book before, several years back. While its title was rather promising, its content was forgettable, at least to someone like Sanji. There just wasn't much new information in it for a cook of his caliber.

He glanced over at Nami and decided she couldn't possibly be comfortable sleeping like that on the table. Standing up, he made his way over. It would be an easy task to carry her, but doing so without waking her was a challenge. Would the risk of waking her outweigh his need to see sleep comfortably?

Actually, it was more of a question of whether he wanted to hold her or not. In a blink of an eye, Sanji lifted Nami off her chair and transferred her to the bench.

She stirred a little, then quieted. Sanji sighed in relief.

"She must've been really tired," he whispered, and gently brushed her silky hair out of her face and behind her ear.

* * *

 _That idiot_ , thought Nami. _How can any normal person have her glasses removed, a blanket thrown over her, and her body carried and placed in a different location and position, all without waking up? Does he really think he's being subtle?_

Nonetheless, she kept her eyes shut and her breathing constant. It was sweet, really, what he was doing. And a little bit annoying, the way he just stood there for a long time, and how he had dared to touch her.

Honestly, though, she couldn't say that she didn't like it when he whispered his kind words and brushed her hair aside.

She cracked her eyes open enough to see what he was doing. Sanji was reading something. She risked opening her eyes a little wider. Recognizing the binding of the book, she smiled. It was the first logbook of the nakama, one they had run out of pages for long ago, in the days when they were closer to the East Blue and still learning about the threats of the Grand Line.

Nami couldn't help it. She opened her mouth to speak.

* * *

 _"The Going Merry stayed anchored at the deserted island for four days to allow Luffy and Robin to recover (1),"_ the entry in the logbook read. Recover? Sanji read on.

 _"Afterward, we set sail. The weather is clear and sunny. A mostly spring, partially summer day."_

He perused the entries before and after this one and realized this had to be back when they first met Aokiji. A shocking encounter for the whole crew, the event had brought the nakama to the blunt reality of the ferocity of the Grand Line, and had tested their endurance as well as their loyalty to each other.

His eye lingered on one page, his mind lost in memories all at once tremendous, tumultuous, and joyful.

"Sanji, read that aloud to me," came a murmur.

Startled, Sanji nearly threw the book.

"Ah, Nami-san. Did I wake you? I'm sorry."

For a few moments, Nami said nothing and just watched him watching her.

"Come here," she said in a sleepy voice just as Sanji was beginning to blush, and she pulled one of her arms out from under her blanket, and reaching over, patted the floor next to where she lay on the bench.

Needless to say, Sanji was elated by this invitation. Situating himself on the floor as she had instructed, heart beating due to their proximity, he began to read. And for the period of time that followed, they basked in the warm nostalgia that emanated from the book in which Nami had so diligently recorded their early days.

 _"Today we arrived at the Baratie, where we will apparently remain until Luffy has paid off via labor the cost of the damage he has wreaked upon the restaurant..."_

Nostalgia indeed.

As he read of their encounter, the nostalgia melded into dreams, and he saw clearly once again the faces of Jeff and the staff, the moment when Luffy asked – no – enlisted him as one of his naka, his tearful departure from the Baratie...

In the end, it was Sanji who had fallen asleep, and Nami who gazed at his peaceful, faintly smiling face.

* * *

Early in the morning, Robin slipped into the library in order to return a book after a sleepless night of binge-reading. She was taken by surprise, first, at the fact that the lights were on so early. Then there was the tray on the center table.

She stopped when she spotted the two. One on the soft bench. The other on the floor. The girl covered by a blanket. The guy sprawled out as if he had never meant to sleep on the floor, but would never choose to be anywhere else.

Robin found it difficult to peel her eyes away from such a halcyon scene. She got out another blanket and covered Sanji with it. She removed the logbook from its awkward position under his arm. Then, after taking a final look at the two, she turned off the light and closed the door.

They could hardly be blamed.

Robin knew it more than anyone; the comfort of resting in the presence of another was one of the warmest, coziest feelings in the world.

* * *

 **AN:**

 **(1) This quote is directly from Episode 227-228, when a voiceover of Nami reads the logbook entry for that day.**

 **(2) This logbook entry is one I made up. :)**

 **I CAN'T BELIEVE I MADE IT ON TIME FOR DAY TWO! Again, I'm really going to have to ask for your patience, as I'm working on AP homework and test prep. Also, the time zone I live in is later than many of my readers'.**

 **Anyway, I just wanted to say, thank you to all my reviewers. If you weren't guests, I would have totally replied directly to your review. You don't know how encouraging it was for me to receive your kind words. Please continue to review and ENJOY SANAMI WEEK!**

 **Also, do any of you readers ship Robin x Zoro? How about Robin x Franky? Vote for your preferred Robin pairing on my profile poll!**

 **The Lord bless you!**


	3. Handle With Care

_Sanami Week: Day 3, Prompt: Handle With Care_

Handle With Care

There were many things a chef needed to handle with care. Of course, "the heart and body of a lady" topped Sanji's list. Then there were other priorities, such as the raw produce selection, the food preparations, the arrangement of the platter, and on and on. And chefs had to care for their own bodies as well. A serious, permanent damage to the hand or wrist would ring the death knell for a cook, which was the primary reason Sanji fought with his legs.

Luckily, Sanji's wrist sprain wasn't a permanent injury. But when Sanji tried to move his hand and the pain made him grit his teeth, he knew he wouldn't be cooking dinner that night. Or any time soon.

He sat patiently as Chopper diagnosed his sprain. Lugging an ice box with her as requested by Chopper, Nami entered the room.

"Your wrist isn't too bad," said Chopper to Sanji. "You only have minor ligament damage, and you've suffered far worse. I'm more worried about keeping the gash on your leg uninfected."

Sanji nodded. Out of habit, he reached for the cigarettes in his pocket, only to remember that they were banned in the sick bay. Nami transferred some ice to a small bag, then handed it to Sanji.

"Ice your wrist," she instructed, then looked at Chopper for approval, who nodded.

"Yes," said Chopper. "And I know you can do some cooking with just one hand, but if you want a proper recovery, then don't cook anything for about a week that will make you use that hand – and don't even try to make dinner tonight."

"Wait, not at all tonight? But -," Sanji protested.

"Do as Chopper says," said Nami, crossing her arms. Well, he couldn't refuse her orders. Plus, his hand really was in quite a bit of pain, swollen tremendously despite the ice Nami had given him.

Chopper fastened a splint for his arm. "I will kill you if I see you chopping, frying, lifting pots of soup, or doing anything else that will cause strain to your arm."

"All right, all right," said Sanji. "I'm not some blundering marimo swordsman who can't stop exercising long enough to let his wounds heal."

As if on cue, a clanging noise resonated from another room. The three in the sick bay fell silent for a few moments.

"Was that...?" Chopper asked.

"That was Zoro setting down his weights," Nami answered with a nod.

"Idiot," muttered Sanji.

"I just did his stitches!" Chopper screamed. "Sixty stitches!"

Snatching a roll of bandages from a shelf, he ran out of the room to bundle Zoro up for good.

Sanji rolled his eyes and reached for his cigarettes.

Nami stopped his arm. "Hey."

A warm, tingly feeling swept over him at the sensation of her grasp.

"Sorry. I always forget that I can't smoke in here," said Sanji. Then he gestured at his wrist. "Is this done? Can I leave?"

"I think Chopper was going to give you medicine for the swelling, so you should probably wait for him to come back," said Nami. "But besides that – your smoking isn't why I stopped you, although I have been thinking that you should probably quit. I was going to say not to worry about cooking for a few weeks."

"Nami."

"Really," she said, then beamed at him. "At least seven out of nine people on this ship can't cook a decent meal – but Sanji, you have me."

You have me. It rang in his ears as merrily as wedding bells on a Sunday morning.

"Before you joined the nakama, I had to cook sometimes. Usopp has said they were pretty good meals. I may not be you, but the crew will survive with my food," said Nami. "I've helped you cook and bake before, haven't I? You must remember how much fun I had in the kitchen."

"It's not that I don't want you to cook. It's just that I'd hate to make you do all that work," said Sanji. "You've seen how those guys eat. Just preparing enough food for everyone to have seconds is quite the task, and Luffy can go for tenths."

Nami sighed with mock exasperation and shook her head. "You underestimate me, Sanji. Don't worry, I can manage. I'll get Robin to help. And I'm sure Usopp can make some decent sandwiches."

She smiled at him.

"And you'll get to coach my cooking from the side," she said with bright eyes. "And when Chopper allows you to cook again, your food will taste that much more marvelous."

He looked up at his fiery angel, who so willing to save not only his wrist but his pride when she should just leave scum like himself alone.

"Nami, you know...," he began.

"Hm?"

He looked directly into her eyes with such a sincerity and earnestness that her eyebrows furrowed, focusing on what he was about to say. If she knew how nervous he was to say this, yet how desperately he wanted to convey it. Why? He had said it so often to her before. Why was this so different?

"Sanji, you know you can say anything to me. Because I...," she trailed off.

Very heavily, he felt that his next words would be insufficient, that he would be taken lightly, that he would fail this somehow, that Nami would simply slip away.

Yet it was now or never. He looked ever deeper into her eyes and she steadily looked back into his.

"I love you," they said together.

* * *

 **AN: Hey everyone! Go check out the poll on my profile! Thanks!**

 **And enjoy Sanami Week!**

 **God bless.**


	4. Aroma

_Sanami Week: Day 4, Prompt: Aroma_

Aroma

Nami entered the kitchen. At once, she was captivated by the aroma, and she stood motionless in the doorway. The familiar aroma carried with it potent emotions that traveled through her nose and into her heart.

It had been ages, but she was as sure of the source of the scent as she was of her love of maps and oranges.

Orange bread pudding with spiced sauce. A specialty of Bellemere's.

Sure enough, Sanji was pouring the syrup-like sauce on a piece bread pudding he had transferred onto a small dish.

"Sanji-kun, that's...," Nami breathed. Sanji looked up.

"Nami! You're right on time," he flashed her a smile. He handed her the plate. "This is for you."

"Wait...," a myriad of emotions washed over her. Tears pricked at her eyes. Did he know what this meant to her? How?

"You told me. When you were drunk the other night," said Sanji, a little hesitantly. "That you ate this when you were little, and now you wanted to eat it again more than anything."

"I didn't know it meant so much to you," he added, seeing her watery eyes.

Nami blushed a little and reached for the plate. She sat down at the counter.

"Near the end," said Nami softly, "we couldn't afford all the fruits and berries you put into this. We used the oranges from our grove of course. And we always had a stock of dried fruits. But even when money got really tight, Bellemere would make this bread pudding for my and Nojiko's birthdays without fail."

Bellemere. She could see the scenes more clearly now than she had in a while. The birthdays celebrations that Bellemere never forgot about, even though nobody knew her true birthdate. Running up to Bellemere holding a still unripe orange that she had picked, getting shouted at by Nojiko, and forgiven by Bellemere. How ardently Bellemere insisted they were family and wished for her children to fulfill their dreams, even as blood from the gunshot wound spread across her shirt. How reassured Nami felt to be able to consider Bellemere as her own mother.

Nami knew she would never find the words to express how grateful and how indebted she was to her mother, the woman who gave her the ambition to live.

She took a bite of the orange bread pudding and closed her eyes. A tear streaked down her face. Then another, and another.

Soon, she was weeping too hard to eat.

Without a word, Sanji handed her a napkin, and sat down beside her. He lit a cigarette. They sat there together for a while.

"I wonder if I've gotten close to becoming the kind of woman Bellemere would be proud of," Nami sniffled at one point.

Sanji exhaled slowly and extinguished his cigarette on an ashtray. Then he put an arm around Nami.

"Nami," he said. Nami wiped her eyes and looked at him.

"You were the person your mother would be proud of from the moment she met you."

* * *

 **AN: I really wanted to write this from Sanji's perspective, but Nami's POV fit the prompt "aroma" better. Also...**

 **Probably Sanji wouldn't smoke in the kitchen...**

 **But...Yeah...**

 **Go check out the poll on my profile if you haven't already!**

 **God bless!**


	5. Escape

**Some blood in this one, guys. No explicit violence, but it is heavily implied that it was inflicted at a previous time.**

* * *

 _Sanami Week: Day 6, Prompt: Escape_

Escape

On a rock somewhere on the Grand Line was a cage. As the waves rushed in, they swept over the rocky floor; when the tide was at its fullest, it would submerge the cage completely.

The frost that caked the bars of this prison began to form on Sanji's hair and eyelashes as he lay sprawled on the floor. Blood streaked his freezing, shirtless body and the saltwater stung his wounds.

Occasionally, he coughed out blood, and uncomfortable, he would attempt to move, although there was hardly any part of him that was not covered in shocking lacerations or livid bruises; too many of his bones were broken or crushed, or his ligaments sprained. Sanji grit his teeth at the pain.

Eventually, he was too exhausted to move and he shut his eyes. The torturers hadn't left him his cigarettes, but he was too weak and the area way too wet to light one anyhow.

He contemplated death. There was, to the right of him, sea, to the left of him, sea; nothing but sea expanded around him. Within the span of the dark day, the waters would submerge the cage completely, and he would die. Perhaps some small, carnivorous creatures would wriggle their way between the bars and nibble away at him, if the decomposers did not reach his flesh first.

Food. Funny, his whole life had been about food, and now he would be fed to the ever-churning cycles of this world.

Food for the hungry. Food for the poor. Food for his nakama.

His eyes opened briefly. Yes. The nakama. They were what this was all for. They could survive without him. Well, he wasn't so sure how long Luffy would last without the world's best cook. And poor Nami and Robin would be left with only the insane bunch. He smiled slightly, which cracked his lips.

To Sanji, the nakama and each of their dreams and ambitions were more worth sacrificing his body for than anything else in the world. They should forget about him. Leave him here on this dark corner of the world, in which he was only a bloody speck.

He closed his eyes again. He really did feel weak. He was glad he was dying alone hidden from the grieving eyes of his friends.

Well, no. He wasn't glad. He had never felt more terribly alone. He desperately grappled with his determination to die, trying to comfort himself by remembering that he had sacrificed himself for his nakama, trying to remember to believe in them – believe in Luffy. But at the same time, his body was so broken that it affected his heart as well.

Darkness webbed over his already closed eyes. The water now covered most of his body. Sanji did not try to sit up. There was no room in the cage to sit up completely for a man of his stature anyway. For a while, the only sounds he heard were the rolling of the sea and the wind, and the waves crashing into the rock on which his cramped prison sat. Even to these noises he eventually became numb.

And then there was a buzz. And that buzz turned into a roar. And when it was at its loudest, it stopped.

"SANJI-KUN!"

His eyes sprung open.

Life.

The voice he had just heard was life in its essence. He gasped for air, tilting his head upward so that he wouldn't swallow the sea water.

The lock to the cage jangled and, with a few clicks, was unlocked. Still standing on her waver, Nami leaned in.

"Sanji-kun?!" Nami yelled. "Tell me you're alive."

"Nami," Sanji croaked. He heard her sigh in relief.

"Can you move at all? Do you need me to come and get you?"

He tried to answer. Seeing that he couldn't, Nami crawled into the cage. With some effort, she heaved Sanji up so that she could drag him out to the waver. He was so heavy and some of his bones felt so odd that it was difficult to do anything.

"This must hurt. I'm sorry, Sanji."

Sanji clutched at her hand.

"Wait," he rasped. "Let me...let me just stay here with you for a moment."

He was already leaning against her as she dragged him, but when Nami stopped for him, he buried his face in her neck. With one hand he clutched her shirt. With the other, he clasped her hair and the nape of her neck.

Nami crouched there with him. She teared up at the sensation of his violent shivering, the warm blood seeping from his cold body into her drenched clothes, and the desperation with which he clung to her, as if for dear life.

A new, warm wetness seeped onto her shoulder. His tears. Sanji began to breathe long, loud, grating breaths. It took her a few moment to realize he was sobbing out loud.

Tears rolled down her face as well, and she wrapped her arms around him.

"Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you for everything. You're fine, now."

She spoke to him soothing words until he finally passed out from the pain. Then she got him into the waver and zoomed off.

Their private moment in the cage was rarely spoken of, and when it was mentioned, it was never in front of the nakama. When Sanji's eyes finally fluttered open again over a day later, Nami wondered if he remembered.

She looked into his eyes. They were swollen and dark.

Yet full of warmth as they rested upon her.

"I caused you quite a bit of trouble, didn't I?" he whispered. Nami smiled and shook her head.

"Not at all."

* * *

 **AN: *screams because I'm so behind schedule***

 **I've already written most of Fairy Tale, but it's gotten so long...I will definitely complete it and post it though.**

 **Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me, and to the guest reviewers for your kind reviews. It's really a blessing to be on the internet and not get a ton of crap and hate. So thank you.**

 **God bless!**


	6. Thank You

**NOTE: This one is a continuation of the story for the Escape prompt, in which Sanji was rescued by Nami after being tortured and locked in a cage. Here they are right where I left off, in the sick bay of the Sunny.**

 **Shout-out to Elenniel for the idea.**

* * *

 _Sanami Week: Day 8, Prompt: Thank You  
_

Thank You

By the time Sanji's eyes opened, the last light of the next day was slipping under the horizon. His eyelids drooped, and he was about to fall asleep again when he realized that someone was beside him. He turned his head slightly, and the movement made his head throb.

Nami sat next to the bed on Chopper's swivel chair. When she realized Sanji was awake, she faced him. Hesitant to say anything in case he couldn't or didn't want to reply, or was about to fall back asleep, she simply smiled at him.

But she wondered, looking at his swollen eyes and the bruises along his jawline and forehead, how much he remembered. Because she remembered it all, down to the very sensation of his body against hers, his hand on the nape of her neck, and the tears that ran from his face onto her neck.

"I caused you quite a bit of trouble, didn't I?" Sanji managed, a tender expression on his face. Nami shook her head.

"Not at all," she replied. "And...how do you feel?"

"Like I've been tortured," he said, then glanced at her. "But I feel much better. Chopper did a good job, like he always does."

"Can you drink water?" Nami held up a glass. "You may not feel like it, but you should if you can."

"I'll...I'll try," said Sanji.

Nami propped him up with a pillow and brought the glass to his lips. He sipped slowly, then shook his head when he could drink no more.

"Do you have an appetite at all?" Nami asked.

"No, not now."

Really, his current emotional stability was her main concern. If she had gone through what he had, she would not have opened her eyes be it two days later or ever again.

"Sanji, are you," she searched for the right words. She didn't want him to draw back from her. She wanted to help him, although she did not know how.

"Are you going to be okay?" she asked finally. Looking down, she swirled around the glass in her hands. The glass was fuller than she expected, and some of the water sloshed out.

"Oh!" She sprung up, blushing. "Um...I'm going to get a towel and..."

Sanji burst out laughing, then winced.

"Nami," he said. "Thank you."

Nami's eyebrows furrowed.

"No, Sanji – it's me who should be thanking you. All the nakama feel indebted to you. You went through so much for us, that I - ."

"Nami," he said firmly. She fell silent.

Sanji knew that he wouldn't be bright and dandy for a while, physically or mentally. He would probably have lingering trauma. Maybe he would scream and wake up in the middle of the night.

But he would survive.

He tapped his lips. Nami's eyes widened.

"Kiss me, and I'll feel better," said Sanji.

"Oh, you! Wait...," Nami stepped back. Pervert. Was he joking? Why had she wasted her time worrying about this good-for-nothing?

Sanji shook his head. "I'm joking. Well no, I meant it. But I don't want to force you to do anything."

"Well...it wasn't as if I felt forced to obey you anyway!" Nami turned her head away.

She stood there awkwardly for a while, then picked up the glass of water for no reason. She set it down again. Then she ran to the door, flung it open, and froze.

Her fingers slid off the doorknob.

In the next instant, Sanji was being kissed.

* * *

 **AN: Thank you everyone for your constant support. I will continue to update.**

 **Frobin vs. Zorobin – go vote on my poll!**


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